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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24252283">Safe to Shore</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyCoyoteGirl/pseuds/HeyCoyoteGirl'>HeyCoyoteGirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Never Have I Ever (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Pre-Relationship, no beta we die like non-honors students, paxton is a soft boy and i will die on this hill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:35:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,562</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24252283</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyCoyoteGirl/pseuds/HeyCoyoteGirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Devi has a panic attack after falling into the pool. Paxton helps her through it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Paxton Hall-Yoshida/Devi Vishwakumar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>154</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Safe to Shore</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title is from Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men.</p>
<p>This is my first NHIE fic, so let me know if I got their voices right! It's also unbetad, so please point out any mistakes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Paxton was leading her somewhere. She wasn’t quite sure where. He’d said something—about clothes, maybe—but her ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton. And the party continued to rage around them. The bass of too loud music thumped through her body, shaking her bones and forcing her heartbeat to match the racing tempo.</p>
<p>The breeze against her damp skin made her shiver. Made her keep shivering. Hadn’t they just been inside? Why was there a breeze? Where—</p>
<p>Paxton’s hand left her lower back, and she found herself suddenly swaying on her feet. She hadn’t even realized that his hand had been there until its support was gone. What was happening to her that she hadn’t realized that <em> Paxton </em> was touching her? Was she dying? Her chest <em> hurt </em> with every inhale. The air stabbing into her lungs, trying to cut her to ribbons. Her heart was pounding, about to break free from her ribcage. And the world around her seemed muted and muffled and blurry. Weirdly distorted like she was—</p>
<p>Underwater.</p>
<p>
  <em> Oh, God. </em>
</p>
<p>“Woah!”</p>
<p>She felt distant hands grab at her. Pulling her out of the water? Or pushing her deeper? The breeze was ice against her skin. Her pulse thudded in her ears, everything else drowned out by its roar. She had to find the surface, but her legs were numb, useless, <em> paralyzed. </em> Her lungs were caving in—or, no, filled with water. The pressure unbearable. Ribs cracking under the strain. Her throat tightened. She was choking. She couldn’t breathe. She <em> couldn’t breathe </em> and—</p>
<p>“Devi! Devi, hey, can you hear me? I’m right here. I’ve got you.”</p>
<p>Paxton. Paxton’s hand in her’s. Paxton’s face in her field of view. His eyebrows drawn together, lips tight with worry. Worry—for her?</p>
<p>She managed to nod her head, motions jerky. The motion unbalanced her. Set her head spinning. The rip current threatening to drag her deeper.</p>
<p>Paxton squeezed her hand. A lifebuoy. “Ok, can you name five things you can see for me?”</p>
<p>The world was still swimming. She felt disconnected, trapped at the bottom of a pool while everyone watched impassively from above. She was still shaking. Why couldn’t she stop shaking?</p>
<p>“Devi?” Paxton prompted, voice so soft it made her <em> ache</em>.</p>
<p>“Right.” Forcing that single word out through the water in her lungs was <em> exhausting</em>. But she couldn’t let Paxton down. Couldn’t disappoint him. The last person still in her life. Five things. “Um. Your eyes. Your jacket. The ground. My dress.” With each word spoken, the next came a little easier. But still, she hesitated for a second. Her voice dropped, nearly whispering, “Your lips.”</p>
<p>Said lips curved into a small smile. “Good. Now, what are four things you can feel?”</p>
<p>Her breath hitched, and her vision abruptly went blurry. Her eyes stung—chlorine? She blinked rapidly. Her hand darted to her leg, pinching her skin roughly, nails digging in hard enough to draw blood. “My—my legs. I can’t—I can’t <em> feel</em>—”</p>
<p>Paxton caught her hand, gently prying it away from her leg. He replaced it with his own, palm burning her skin like a brand. “I got you. I promise, your legs still work. Do you think you can tell me four things you feel?”</p>
<p>Devi managed another approximation of a nod. His thumb started to rub little circles by her knee, the repetitive motion soothing enough that she managed to take a deep—shuddering and <em> painful</em>—breath. Still, progress.</p>
<p>“Your hand—hands,” she said. Paxton’s grip on her tightened for a second. She met his gaze and found herself shuddering for a new reason. “Uh, the breeze. The pavement. My awful, wet dress.” She was starting to settle back into herself. Unfortunately, that meant she was all too aware of the way the damp fabric clung to her.</p>
<p>“Good. You’re almost done, and then we’ll get you out of that wet dress. What are three things you can hear?”</p>
<p>Devi stared at him silently for a moment, but if he realized what he said, he didn’t show it. Perhaps she was still more out of it than she’d thought. Eventually, she answered, “Your voice. The music. My heart.” The last, she said softly, like it was a confession. Maybe it was. The fear was receding, leaving bone deep fatigue in its place, but her heart continued to race.</p>
<p>Paxton smiled at her. Had he been that close a second ago? “Two things you can smell.”</p>
<p>“Chlorine and…”—her nose wrinkled—“chlorine.”</p>
<p>He laughed. “Yeah, I’ll give you that one. It really covers everything up.”</p>
<p>Devi smiled back at him. They were still holding hands. Could he feel her pulse fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings? She hoped her hand wasn’t too clammy.</p>
<p>“Last one: One thing you can taste. Or would like to taste.”</p>
<p><em> You. </em> “Chlorine, again,” she said, sticking her tongue out in feigned disgust.</p>
<p>Paxton chuckled softly, the sound punching her straight in the gut. They were both silent for a moment. His breathing was slow and deep, and Devi found herself unconsciously matching him. He was the metronome, demanding her to keep time. Her lungs twinged as they expanded fully, but when Paxton paused for a beat between inhale and exhale, she mimicked him, relishing in the ache after the suffocating feeling from before.</p>
<p>His voice was quiet as he asked, “Are you feeling better?”</p>
<p>She glanced away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah. Thank you for that.”</p>
<p>“Of course.” His gaze was heavy when she looked up, and she nearly held her breath in anticipation. But she couldn’t afford to screw this up and lose yet another person. She slipped her hand out of his, making a futile attempt—mostly for show—to squeeze some of the water out of the hem of her dress.</p>
<p>“You said something about clothes?” <em> Getting her out of that wet dress, to be specific</em>. She pushed the thought away; she had to focus on being a good friend, not pining away hopelessly.</p>
<p>“Right.” He sounded—disappointed? Her head whipped up. He didn’t <em> look </em> disappointed. Wishful thinking, then. This “being a good friend” thing might be tougher than she’d thought. He gave her thigh one last squeeze—<em>how </em> had she missed the fact that his hand was still on her leg?—and stood, offering a hand to help her up. “I have some extra sweats in the car that you can wear.”</p>
<p>The thought of wearing Paxton’s clothes would have sent her into a tizzy any other day. Today, she was bone-deep exhausted. Which she realized when she stood and nearly face planted into Paxton’s chest. Her knees buckling threatened to send her spiraling again, but she could still <em> feel </em> them, feel the lead weights in all of her muscles and the throbbing from her ill-advised pinch.</p>
<p>Plus, Paxton’s hands were on her waist, saving her from breaking her nose on his sternum or tipping over backwards to crack her skull on his car. He was murmuring at her, not really saying anything, but tone and cadence soothing. It reminded her of someone talking to an injured wild animal they were trying to catch. These days, she often felt like a wild animal, cornered and scared and lashing out at the people trying to help her.</p>
<p>“Devi?”</p>
<p>She shook the thoughts off, starting slightly as she realized that Paxton’s hands were still on her waist and her hands were clutching his forearms. “Sorry,” she said, not moving her hands. “I kind of got lost in thought there.”</p>
<p>Paxton shrugged. “No worries. I should’ve realized that your blood sugar would be low. I’ve got snacks in the car. Think you can lean against the car and stay upright long enough for me to grab them?”</p>
<p>She nodded, albeit reluctantly. But only because his hands were warm and she was cold. Definitely not because standing like that made it very easy to fantasize about kissing him. She half listened to Paxton rattle off an implausibly long list of choices—was he running some sort of strange convenience store out of the back of his jeep?—eventually just letting him decide.</p>
<p>He’d returned quickly, snacks and sweats in hand and watched her like a hawk as she carefully lowered herself to sit leaning against the car’s tire. And thus, she found herself sitting on the ground outside Ben’s house—outside the biggest party of the year—in a wet dress, drinking a <em> juice box </em> and eating banana bread with <em> Paxton Hall-Yoshida</em>, the hottest guy in school. If her thigh didn’t still hurt, she’d be tempted to pinch herself again.</p>
<p>She was on her second slice—Paxton was on what seemed to be his second <em> loaf</em>—when the wind blew sharply, reminding her of the fact that she was <em> still </em> soaked. She shivered violently, and Paxton was on his feet instantly. “You should get changed,” he said, stepping around to the other side of the car. “Wouldn’t want to go to the hospital for hypothermia.”</p>
<p>She nodded and pulled his sweatshirt over her head so that she could maintain <em> some </em> amount of dignity while wiggling out of the clingy fabric. “Thanks for letting me borrow your sweats. This is so embarrassing; you keep having to rescue me at parties.”</p>
<p>“It’s not embarrassing for me.” He shot her a slight smile. “I always come out of it looking cool.”</p>
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